Old Games
by SerenityWritesSlash
Summary: Charles stood in the hallway, his grin lopsided. "You're thinking too loudly, I can't get a wink." There was a chessboard tucked neatly beneath his arm, and Erik tried (and failed) to hide his pleasure. Oneshot, Charles/Erik. Angst if you squint.


**_A.N: I just have a lot of X-men feelings. I saw the new movie recently and absolutely loved it! But this ship has caused me so much grief. I'm probably never going to recover from these two, they've sucked out my soul._**

**_Without further ado, my first Charles/Erik fanfic._**

* * *

Erik could not sleep.

His head whirled with thoughts, the battle was nearing, and the children were hardly ready for combat. Especially Raven, who was still hidden inside herself. He turned over in bed, wondering if there was anything he could do to convince her to accept herself. Charles had known her the longest, perhaps he could help.

His mind whirled off track, thinking of Smidt, who he would soon have his revenge upon. The strange mutants with him, that girl made of glass. Erik was completely awake.

Someone knocked on his door. After rolling out of bed, he hesitantly opened it.

Charles stood in the hallway, his grin lopsided. "You're thinking too loudly, I can't get a wink of sleep." There was a chessboard tucked neatly beneath his arm, and Erik tried (and failed) to hide his pleasure. When he let the younger man in, he noticed he was only wearing his pajamas. Then again, so was he.

"Hm, it's nice and quiet when everyone's asleep." Charles murmured, taking a seat at the small round table in the corner of Erik's guest room. Erik sat opposite of him, raising a brow to make him continue. "Dreams aren't as loud as thoughts, it is so much easier to shut them out."

"It must be annoying." Erik snorted, as he began arranging his pieces. Charles reached to get some of his, and their fingers brushed briefly. A small, barely noticeble tingle went up Erik's arm. He quickly glanced at Charles, who made no indication of feeling the same thing, and let out a somewhat disastified breath.

"You're stressed," Charles stated, as their game began. Erik frowned at him, moving his knight.

"I have every right to be," he said, evenly. "In a few days, I'll be facing the man who killed my mother."

Charles looked at him with a strong empathy, "You mustn't kill him, Erik."

He did not speak again for a very long time, only the sound of the chess pieces moving on the board gave any indication that they were aware of each other's pressence. The game lasted for what seemed like ages, and it was by far the quietest one they'd had. Erik often snuck glances at Charles; he watched him bite his lip, run his tongue over the spot he'd bitten, and then move his piece.

It was dangerous to think about these things with a psychic mutant so close, and Erik knew that. But he simply couldn't stop.

Since Charles had pulled him out of the water, Erik had wondered about him. He made him feel a strange melancholy, one he hadn't experienced in years. The kind of quite yearning which spread through the body and to his chest.

Erik did not dare think of the word, even though Charles looked absolutely stunning when he was examining his movements, the way he smugly twitced his lips, or when he blinked in surprise. His eyebrows even had a crease Erik would dare call adorable.

Charles suddenly stopped furrowing his brows. Erik gulped, he must have been thinking too loudly. He avoided eye contact, moving his rook distractedly, and allowing Charles to put him in checkmate by mistake.

"Alright," Charles said, looking up at him. "Don't make me read your mind."

Erik, who had been staring at a rather fascinating patch of carpet, quickly raised his eyes, face growing hot. "And why would you do that?" He asked, his voice icy to hide his fear. Fear of rejection, repulsion, of _discrimination_.

With a quietly laugh, Charles leaned across the table, giving Erik a painfully gentle look. "You've been a bit off all night, is something wrong?"

Erik slowly turned in his seat, one arm still hanging over the back of his chair. Charles looked back at him, expectantly.

He moved without thinking, really. Erik gave up in trying to hide; it had never been his strong suit, anyway. He was soon meeting Charles, leaning out of his seat and over the table, his arms raising, and hands cupping the young professor's face, pulling him in closer.

Charles, sweet, inexperienced Charles let out a small (practically inaudible) gasp of anticipation. That was all Erik needed as consent, and he leaned in, closing the only gap left between them.

The kiss was not at all still, moving quickly and rather energetically on Charles' part. Erik was surprised, the gentleness of the other man's mouth was better than he'd imagined, and he kissed him as well as he knew how, his hands sliding up his neck and into Charles' hair.

Erik was soon on his feet, leaning into Charles as he made his way over the table, sitting on the small spot of chair Charles had cleared between his legs. _His legs_, Erik thought, running one hand down to them. They were great legs, full of muscle from training with Hank.

A small moan sounded from Charles, the first noise he'd made since his little gasp. Erik chuckled, running his fingers along his thigh and smiling into their kiss. Charles smirked- never a good sign, and then Erik got the vague idea he knew something he wouldn't have known without his powers.

Charles suddenly pulled his mouth away, taking hold of Erik's shirt collar and pulling it down, revealing his shoulder.

"You wouldn't-" Erik started to say, but he was cut off by his own groans when Charles started to bite lightly at his lower neck. It was a spot Erik had discovered to be very... sensitive after a few sexual affairs.

Charles pulled back grinning, and Erik decided he'd had enough. He got to his feet, tugging Charles with him, and to his surprise Charles actually pounced on him, his arms lacing around his neck and kissing him as he walked backwards. Not that Erik minded, but it was difficult to maneuver himself to the bed with Charles hanging off of him like that.

After a quick spin, Charles was on his back, and Erik slowly moved to lean over him. The young proffesor laughed as Erik tried to keep his balance, placing his hands on each side of Charles' head. Their legs had become somewhat tangled in the process, but it wasn't horribly uncomfortable.

Finally, Erik leaned back down, allowing Charles to kiss him again. It was much slower this time, a steady kiss. They allowed each other's tongues to explore the other's mouth, but Erik was more focused on how gentle the whole thing was. There was no pain, only Charles.

He smiled a bit, wishing he could freeze time as a mutation. Then he'd never have to give this moment up.

They fell asleep together, still tangled, with Charles' hair poking Erik's nose.

* * *

_THIRTY YEARS LATER_

* * *

Erik slumped in his seat, uncertain why the memory had come back to haunt him out of the blue like that. Things had changed, and he was now much too old to be thinking so far back into his life.

He was in the park, surrounded by humans, playing chess by himself. He'd gotten used to it after the death of his friend, who in his mind, was the only person worthy enough to challenge and old master like himself.

With a sigh from Erik, the metallic rook moved. This was no fun, Erik slumped further into his seat, covering part of his face with one hand.

He missed Charles. He had not grieved for him at all, keeping his mind solely on his goal. Perhaps the old mutant had been in denial, but now he was certain of his guilt, and of his hurt.

The stupid bald professor just had to go and leave himself vulnerable. Erik's fingers balled up, because he probably could have saved Charles, had he not been knocked down by the Pheonix.

A tear fell down on the chessboard, and Erik blinked; he had not realized he had been crying.

Cursing, he sat up straight, trying to recollect himself. This was no place for an old man to cry, he would be noticed and the humans would give him _pity_.

"You know, old friend, you never were good at emotions."

Startled, Erik looked up. Across the table, Charles was wheeling towards him, dressed as simply as he had himself. Like a regular old man in the park.

Erik rubbed his face in disbelief, "How much have you... _heard_?"

Charles smiled crookedly, his eyes crinkled at the edges. "Enough to know you'd like to have an opponent." With effort, he wheeled over, clearing his throat and rearranging the pieces. Erik began to help, reaching over. Their fingers brushed.

Charles smiled softly, "I'm sorry it took so long to get back. You know how it is."

"You've grown slow, old friend." Erik said, choking slightly. He didn't bother hiding his pleasure, Charles could sense it from miles away.

Charles moved his first pawn. "As have you, Erik." He said, looking at him with the same eyes that had stared at him many times before, eyes filled with something Erik had missed dearly.

With a small flick of the wrist, Erik moved his knight. "It's good to see you again, Charles."

They smiled, and then, they began a new game.


End file.
